My first flight.I wish I could say I remember it like it was yesterday… but it’s back there in the recesses of my mind, and the details have become hazy.The highlighted memories remain special to me.

Our mother surprised my sister and me with the news that we were flying to Dallas to see a traveling museum exhibit on Pompeii.I was in junior high, and fairly astonished that I was going to ride on an airplane.

It was back in the day when flight attendants were called stewardesses, and on Southwest they wore cute little orange hats and short shorts and white boots.I remember that.

My grandparents went with us.Seems like Granddad wore a plaid jacket.

What I remember most about the exhibit of that volcanic tragedy is the little tray I bought with mosaic artwork from that time period.I had it for years until it somehow got lost in the shuffle.It was hauntingly beautiful.

The grand part of the story is how my mother introduced me to so many things.To beauty, to travel, to other cultures, to adventure.Thank you, Mama.You gave me the world and so much more!

It takes time to introduce children to art and beauty throughout history. Making such a special trip was a way for your mother to underline the importance of these things. That shared experience stayed with you and helped you become the wonderful person you are.